


taking back our promised days

by magumarashi



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/M, Modern AU, Viera Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:35:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28176255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magumarashi/pseuds/magumarashi
Summary: It is the 10th Astral Era, and the city of Ishgard is now a sprawling, modern metropolis—long since replacing Sharlayan in the minds of Eorzeans as a hub of learning, history, and innovation. Magitek-powered bus and airship lines connect the outlying neighborhoods of Whitebrim, Falcon’s Nest, and Dragonhead to the downtown spires of the fortress city. It is on one such bus line that our story unfolds: the chance meeting of a viera student from Gridania and an elezen administrator working in Ishgard…
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light
Comments: 35
Kudos: 40





	1. Haurchefant finds himself having a crisis

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been giving me hopeless brainworms for weeks and I'm so excited to start sharing it with you all!
> 
> For context, my WoL is a Viera named Aoife Asturmaux. (Her first name is pronounced "Eefa".) I put her backstory on [the Lodestone](https://na.finalfantasyxiv.com/lodestone/character/27819823/), and while it's not 100% necessary for understanding this fic, her adventures are part of the history on which this modern Ishgard was built. And it might become more relevant as the story goes on :3c
> 
> **A note about the rating**  
>  This fic has an M rating for now, but there will eventually be a number of scenes that will bump the rating up to E. These scenes will be plainly marked for your convenience, and they'll be posted by themselves so I don't blindside anyone with porn in the middle of a regular chapter lol. That said! If you're thinking "hm, maybe I will skip them then," just know that they do figure into the plot and character development, sometimes in a major way. The decision to skip them or not is up to you.

Every day, five days a week, Haurchefant Archambeau woke at dawn to catch the bus to Foundation. From there he was able to use the local Aethernet network to teleport to the Vault, where he worked in a decidedly unexciting job as an administrative assistant to the Speaker of the House of Lords. Each evening he returned to the Foundation transit center to catch his bus back to Dragonhead, where he resided in a modest flat that had once been part of a military fortress. It was about a half bell commute both ways, all told, but it was much more affordable to live out in the suburbs and commute in than it would have been to find lodging in the city itself. Even a closet-sized apartment in the Brume rented for exorbitant sums; the area had long since gentrified to oblivion.

And so, each day Haurchefant Archambeau rode the bus, and each day he couldn’t help but notice a particular viera passenger who seemed to ride on the same schedule he did.

Viera were still uncommon sights in Ishgard, even hundreds of years after the Warrior of Light ended the Dragonsong War and put the name “viera” on the minds of all who lived there. Haurchefant had read about them in his studies, for what little information was available: they were a reclusive race from the continent of Othard who preferred the privacy of their native woods to mingling with other races. There were known to be some few who chose to leave their villages and settle elsewhere, though his fellow commuter was the first viera he’d ever seen. If she were elezen, she would have been about average height for an elezen woman—not counting her ears, which added about a fulm to her overall height. She had a dark complexion and hair the color of fresh linen, which cascaded around her shoulders in flowing locks. Her eyes were usually on her Tomephone, listening to something or other with special earshells clipped to her ears.

She was usually already on the bus when he boarded, having come from somewhere else down the line—the bus itself went as far as Fallgourd Float in the Black Shroud, connecting Ishgard to its neighbor to the south. Each day she disembarked at the stop before his, drawing the attention of at least a few waiting commuters each time she left the bus. He never saw her in the evenings, only on his morning commute; he often returned to Dragonhead well after dinnertime, when the buses were empty. He wished that he could ride the bus with her more often: viera were known for their beauty, but he found this passenger so bewitchingly beautiful that it was hard to take his eyes off her. As the weeks passed, he began, guiltily, to consider his half hour on the bus with her to be his favorite part of the journey to work. There was something familiar about her features, though he was certain they’d never met before. Perhaps it was only the passing familiarity of seeing the same strangers on one’s commute each day.

Even still, he longed for the chance to speak with her—if even just to tell her he admired her. _Ah, but would that be too forward? I don’t want to come off like some creep who’s been stalking her…_

It took several moons for fate to favor him with an opportunity to introduce himself: one day he boarded the bus to find that the only empty seat was the one next to her on the front benches. He took a deep breath (trying to swallow his elation) before making his way toward the bench and taking a seat next to her. She barely looked up from her phone, on which she was playing some kind of game.

Not wanting to seem too eager, he waited for the bus to start rolling again before addressing her.

“Er… excuse me?”

Her ears twitched; evidently she could hear him even with her earshells in. She removed one and turned to look at him, quizzically. His own ears picked up the sound of something upbeat and peppy from the earshell in her hand.

_By the gods, she’s even more beautiful up close…!_

Trying not to splutter his internal reaction aloud, Haurchefant quickly added, “You, er—do you ride this bus often?”

He immediately realized that was not the question he had wanted to ask, but it was already too late. The viera gave him a slow once-over before responding, matter-of-factly:

“Yeah, because I… commute. To school.”

“A-ah, yes, I suppose that does make sense…” said Haurchefant. The University of Ishgard’s Foundation campus was, indeed, the stop before his on the line. He flushed a little, and busied himself with his own Tomephone. “S-sorry to bother you, miss.”

Sensing he had no more to say, the viera replaced her earshell, and returned her eyes to the game on her phone. There could be no clearer signal that the conversation was over. As soon as another seat emptied, Haurchefant hastily went to take it—then immediately regretted getting up. Much as he desperately wanted to avoid leaving things as they were, he would have seemed all the more desperate for returning to the seat next to her after once vacating it.

His anxiety left him little choice but to sit several seats away for the remainder of the bus ride, and look on helplessly as she disembarked once more at the stop before his.

* * *

It was a fortnight before another chance to sit next to her presented itself, and Haurchefant was determined to make up for their previous awkward interaction. This time she sat in one of the bus’s forward-facing middle rows, and he took the empty aisle seat next to her. It took some time before he could work up the courage to say something. Was it possible she recognized him from before? She didn’t seem too discomforted by his presence, at least—or she didn’t show it on her face. 

“Er…” he said. Her ears twitched again, signalling that he’d gotten her attention. She glanced over at him, reaching up to take one of the earshells out. “I, um—do you remember me? From a few weeks ago?” 

The viera nodded to him, slowly. 

“I, uh, I wanted to apologize for before,” he said. “I’m really no good at speaking when I’m nervous. Ironic for someone in a government job, I know…” He cleared his throat. “Anyway. Let me try again. I apologize if this sounds forward, but… Well, I see you riding this bus by yourself every day, and I…” _Want to tell you how beautiful you are. Want to get to know you. Want to—!_ “I-I thought I would say hello.”

“Uh-huh…”

_Fury take me, now she must really think I’m a creep… Haurchefant, you and your big mouth—!_

“Well… hello back, then,” she responded after a time. “You… usually board at Dragonhead, right? I see you a lot.”

“Yes!” said Haurchefant, a bit more loudly than he intended. “I mean—yes. I live there. I mean—you noticed?” 

“Mm.” The viera nodded again. “Your hair… it sticks out.”

“I—right, yes. I suppose it’s not a very common color,” Haurchefant ran a hand through his messy silver hair. “I’ve thought of dyeing it on occasion, but haven’t yet found the time to try.”

“I think it looks nice,” said the viera quietly.

_She thinks *I* look nice…!?!?_

Haurchefant cleared his throat.

“Thank you.”

He looked back over at her, only to notice that her ashen eyes were fixed on him—as though she was seeing right through to his core. It was difficult to discern what she might be thinking. A shiver ran down his spine. 

“Have we… met before?” she asked at length. “Not on the bus, I mean.”

“I don’t believe we—why do you ask?” Haurchefant couldn’t quite wait to finish his sentence before responding with another question.

“Oh, no reason,” said the viera. “I just feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before. You’re not famous, are you?”

“Not unless ‘Personal Assistant to the Speaker of the House of Lords’ is a title deserving of clout,” said Haurchefant. “Though I am occasionally visible on the sidelines, my boss is the one who gets most of the screentime, I’m afraid…”

“Maybe that’s it, then,” the viera smiled. “Sorry for asking something so weird.”

“Oh, not at all!” said Haurchefant reassuringly. “Truth be told, I had actually been thinking the same thing about you—!”

Realizing what he was saying, Haurchefant quickly clamped his mouth shut.

_Oh, I’ve really done it now—!_

“I get that a lot, actually,” said the viera. “The Warrior of Light was a viera with light hair and dark skin, like me. I get people thinking they’ve seen me before all the time.”

“Ah! That does explain it,” said Haurchefant. “It happens that I spent some time studying the end of the Dragonsong War in school. I do see the resemblance, now that you mention it.”

There came a jolt as the bus passed from the smoothly-paved modern road onto the time-worn cobbles of the Steps of Faith. Haurchefant glanced past the viera out the window, noting the guards in full chainmail and armor posted just outside the Gates of Judgement. Ishgard was one of the few city-states that had maintained its traditional army over the centuries, and such armor-clad guards were posted more as a formality now than anything. At the very least they were armed with handgonnes now in lieu of sword and shield—the proliferation of magitek firearms had long ago outpaced the weapons of eld.

“Oh!” he said, as the viera was starting to consider replacing her earshell. “I’m sorry; all this chatting and I never thought to introduce myself properly. Haurchefant Archambeau.”

“Nice to meet you,” said the viera with a nod. “My name’s Aoife. Aoife Springbreeze.”

“Aoife…” said Haurchefant, his eyes glimmering with excitement. “Why, you have the same name as the Warrior of Light!”

Aoife giggled a little.

“I picked it myself,” she said, smiling—this seemed to be a particular point of pride for her. “She was the one who inspired me to study in Ishgard, too.”

“Looking to follow in the footsteps of your hero?” said Haurchefant. “I hardly blame you. Aoife Asturmaux was a hero among heroes, and a viera besides…”

Haurchefant had always been fascinated by the tales of his nation’s foremost hero, a woman who had earned her place alongside such names as Saint Rainette and Prince Haldrath. There was not a soul in Ishgard who hadn’t heard the tales of Aoife Asturmaux, the Warrior of Light; even centuries later she still captured the imaginations of nobles and commoners alike. Hers was a story of firsts: she had been the first viera visitor to the Holy See, and became the first outsider to carry the title of Azure Dragoon. She went on to become the savior of Ishgard and a symbol of lasting peace not just in Coerthas, but across the realm. Haurchefant’s own namesake had given his life for her, and reading the stories of her kindness and valor, he could readily understand why. 

“So you work in the city as well?” Aoife asked.

“Hm? Oh, yes, I work at the Vault,” said Haurchefant. “You mentioned you’re a student, so I assume you’re at the University of Ishgard?”

“Mm,” said Aoife, nodding. “I’m a graduate student there. My research focus is Coerthan history, so they have me working at the Dragonsong War Historical Institute a few days a week.”

“I see,” said Haurchefant, nodding. “I’ve never been to the museum myself, but I hear it’s fascinating. I’d love to visit someday.”

“You should!” said Aoife. “They have all kinds of artifacts from past eras. They even have a suit of the Warrior of Light’s original armor.”

“Really?”

“It’s true!” Aoife smiled to herself. “It’s really cool, and they’ve kept it in great shape. Sometimes I think about sneaking in and trying it on when nobody’s looking….”

Haurchefant couldn’t help laughing at this.

“It might fit you!”

“You think so…?”

With the Warrior of Light as a catalyst, the conversation ebbed and flowed naturally—Haurchefant could scarce believe that he’d been a stuttering mess not too long earlier, nor that he’d ever wanted for something to say to her. Now that they’d found some common ground, they fell into chatting like old friends… at least until the bus neared Foundation, and Aoife moved to put her Tomephone and earshells into her bag.

“Oh… your stop’s coming up, isn’t it?” said Haurchefant.

“Mm-hm,” said Aoife. “Um… it was nice talking to you, Horsh… uh… Horchata?”

“Haurchefant,” the elezen tried not to laugh. He took no offense at her blunder; on the contrary, he found it highly endearing.

“Right, sorry,” said Aoife. “Elezen have such complex names…”

“It’s the same name as one of Count Edmond de Fortemps’ sons, if that helps to remember it,” said Haurchefant. “The one who, ah, gave his life for the Warrior of Light…”

“Oh…! Now that you mention it,” Aoife frowned a little. “Is _that_ how it’s pronounced? I didn’t think the H was silent…”

“It’s not exactly intuitive, I’ll admit,” said Haurchefant. The bus was slowing down now as it passed through the gates of the city proper, and the elezen stood up and moved aside to allow her to disembark.

“I much enjoyed chatting with you, Miss Springbreeze,” he said. “Take care on your way to school.”

Aoife shuffled out of the seat and then flashed him a warm smile.

“Just Aoife is fine.”

And she was gone—out the rear door and off the bus before Haurchefant could register what she’d said to him. The radiance of her smile had left him stunned, and it wasn’t until someone behind him jabbed him unceremoniously in the back that he remembered he ought to get out of the middle of the aisle. He apologized profusely and moved to stand near the rear door, hoping to catch a glimpse of her before the bus moved on. He was able to spot her ears in a crowd of backpack-toting students before she disappeared around a corner.

“Aoife…” he murmured to himself. The name tugged at his heartstrings in ways he didn’t expect. As if her beauty wasn’t enough; to share the name of such a vaunted hero besides… 

Haurchefant found himself already looking forward to the next day’s commute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd apologize for making haurchefant work at the vault but i aint apologizing for SHIT


	2. And Aoife can't stop thinking about him

Aoife Springbreeze could barely keep her mind off the attractive young elezen she’d met on the bus.

She made no bones about it: she found him attractive. If he hadn’t been at least somewhat fair-featured, she would not have indulged him with her time. She'd had her fair share of approaches by mouthbreathing strangers while going about her daily life, and it was practically never anyone who suited her personal tastes (or, gods forbid, demonstrated basic respect for her as a person). By now she had a plethora of ways of signalling to hungry men that she was not interested, and a cold shoulder was her first line of defense. 

But Haurchefant, to her great surprise, was both considerate and _beautiful._ She almost couldn’t believe she’d gone so long taking the bus without really noticing him. 

With male viera born so rarely, it was not uncommon for female viera living outside their villages to develope a taste for men of other races. Aoife’s years in Gridania had exposed her to a number of different races, elezen included, but it wasn’t until she reached Ishgard that she began to better understand her own preferences. In Ishgard it almost seemed like every other young man she passed on the street was tall, slender, and long of ear—with a fine countenance and even finer fashion sensibilities. In that regard, Haurchefant was somewhat dime-a-dozen: he had the sharp cheekbones, the long ears, the slender build generously emphasized by the business suits he wore daily. His only truly noteworthy features were his hair (an uncommon blueish silver, like the color of ice) and his nose (hooked like a hawk’s beak, lending an overall curve to his profile).

And yet he was _attractive._ She couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was that made him stand out from every other handsome Ishgardian she’d ever seen, but she found herself unable to put him out of mind. Was it the way his whole face seemed to light up when he smiled? His friendly, warm demeanor? The way he shared her enthusiasm for the Warrior of Light? Her inability to pinpoint an exact reason only served to frustrate her. And then there was the overwhelming deja-vu she got each time she looked at him—she was positive she’d never seen him before she’d started taking the bus from Fallgourd Float, yet his face was so familiar she could have sworn they’d met before. 

Aoife got so wrapped up thinking about him that she barely noticed when the end of her shift came at the museum. It wasn’t until the curator came to tap her on the shoulder, pointing at the clock, that she realized she’d been sitting at her desk for a full half bell past the end of the workday.

“Ah! Sorry, Ser de Durandaire…” Aoife hastily put pens and pads back in their places and swept her Tomephone into her purse. She’d gotten barely anything done all day, despite having been tasked with designing marketing materials for an upcoming exhibit. She was hoping the curator wouldn’t notice her lack of progress.

“Something bothering you, child?” the curator asked gently. “You don’t normally stay so late.”

“No, ser.” Aoife was certain the curator didn’t need to hear about her fixation with the elezen she’d seen on the bus.

“Alright…” The curator raised his eyebrow, indicating that he knew she was bluffing but didn’t want to press her further. “Have a safe trip home, Miss Springbreeze.”

“I will. Thank you, ser.”

Outside the museum, the sun was just going down behind the buttresses and pillars forming Ishgard’s outer walls. The days-old snow on the ground crunched slightly beneath her boots. She took a breath, and the brisk air nipped at her throat. 

Aoife had been working in Ishgard for months now, but she still wasn’t quite accustomed to the cold. Having spent her childhood in a tropical jungle, and then her adolescence in the temperate forests of the Black Shroud, she doubted she would ever acclimate to the nearly-endless winters of Coerthas. Luckily, the cold was no longer an issue in much of the city. After the Dragonsong War ended, Ishgard had embarked on a lengthy and expensive effort to retrofit the interiors of its stone buildings for heat retention and, later, climate control. Aoife now had the privilege of studying and working in heated spaces.

And yet…

“Fuck this swiving cold.”

Aoife made her way toward the bus stop, her arms wrapped tightly around herself—now that the sun had all but set, her undershirt, knit sweater, and winter coat weren’t enough to stave off the rapidly cooling air. She felt almost certain her condition would improve with a nice warm hat, but trying to find a hat made for viera in Eorzea was like asking a pig to fly: possible under the right conditions, but deeply unlikely.

Aoife’s usual bus stop had a sizable crowd at this time of day, though she didn’t see any of the people she normally saw when she left. It didn’t take long for her bus to arrive. As she boarded she scanned the faces of those already on the bus, hoping for a moment that she might spot Haurchefant among the elezen passengers—but no such luck. 

_I suppose it makes sense… I’m only a half bell behind, and in any case, I have no idea when he leaves work. Didn’t he say he worked for the government? He must have long days, then…_

_Ah, there I go thinking about him again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i spent a long time trying to decide how much modern slang i wanted to include in my modern fantasy. if i included too much, it wouldn't quite feel like the established fantasy world, but if i didn't include any, it would be downright weird that the language didn't evolve at all over the last 500 years. i eventually decided that i would allow myself the use of "fuck" when it would be funny


	3. Modern problems require modern solutions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i were feeling less like a raisin, mentally, i could probably come up with meaningful titles for these chapters. unfortunately it took weeks to even come up with a serious title for this fic, so, joke titles are all i have left

To his great fortune, as the days passed Haurchefant began to find more and more opportunities to sit next to Aoife on the bus. It was not uncommon for him to find her waving at him from a window seat, with the aisle seat left open for him to take. Thanks to this, the two had many more opportunities to chat for the brief half bell they saw each other each morning.

(Unbeknownst to him, Aoife did her part to facilitate this: she began to take stock of which regular commuters disembarked before Haurchefant’s stop, and sat next to them whenever she could—all so that a seat would _magically_ free up next to her right before he got on the bus. He was none the wiser, of course, and simply imagined himself to be cosmically lucky.)

It was not long before his conversations with her became the highlight of his days. Haurchefant considered himself generally personable, and easily made friends with those around him. He was at no loss of people to talk to and company to share outside work. But as his friendship with Aoife blossomed, he began to dread the approach of her stop at the far end of the Steps of Faith. He longed to be able to talk to her outside this brief moment, to remain part of her day for longer than the length of his commute…

And then he remembered it was the Tenth Astral Era, and he had a Tomephone.

“Er, Aoife,” he said one day, as her stop approached and their conversation wound down. “I hope this doesn’t seem too intrusive, but…”

“Hm?”

“I’ve come to enjoy talking with you in the mornings,” he said. “And, er, more and more I’ve found that I don’t want to stop at just a mere half bell a day. I have so much more I want to tell you, and I want to hear so much more of your stories…”

Aoife tilted her head.

“What I’m saying is… May I have your nu—”

“ _University of Ishgard, Foundation Campus.”_

The automatic stop announcement unceremoniously cut him off. The bus came to a stop, and there was a hydraulic _hiss_ as the side doors opened.

“…May I have your number….” Haurchefant finished. “I—nevermind, you can give it to me tomorrow. Or never, I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t—!” 

“I have to get off the bus,” Aoife cut in. “I do want your number, though… Can you get off early, or is it too far?”

“I—my stop is the next one, actually, I can walk,” said Haurchefant, though it wasn’t until they were already off the bus that he managed to process her entire response.

 _She wants! My! Number!!!!!_ It was all he could do to keep a straight face. _Keep it cool, Haurchefant, play it cool…!!_

“Here…” Aoife got out her Tomephone; for the first time Haurchefant noticed that the case was covered in dodo stickers. She even had a small dodo-shaped charm hanging off one end. “What’s your number?” 

Haurchefant nearly dropped his phone in his haste to retrieve it from his pocket. The two exchanged numbers—Haurchefant was sure to put her full name into his contacts, while Aoife furtively put him down as “Horchata from the bus” while promising herself she’d fix it later when she had time to have him spell it out.

Once the contacts were saved and phones put away, Aoife glanced at the watch on the inside of her wrist. Haurchefant had figured her watch was a fashion statement more than anything—with clocks displaying by default on the lock screens of most Tomephone models, what need had anyone for a watch anymore? And yet it was charming, somehow, to see her using a wristwatch.

“Oh, shoot, I have to get to class,” said Aoife. “Er—I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Right! Yes—See you then, Aoife.”

And she was off, her heeled halfboots clacking on the cobblestones of Ishgard’s streets. He watched her go, wondering how she could possibly run so confidently in heels that high, until she’d disappeared from view. Now that he thought of it, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her without heeled shoes of some kind… 

Thinking about this (trying and failing not to think too much on it), Haurchefant opened up the map app on his Tomephone to find the nearest Aethernet shard—only to discover the closest terminal was Foundation’s Aetheryte plaza some blocks away. He sighed to himself and set off walking. Perhaps Lord Gaultier wouldn’t notice his late arrival… 

* * *

Lord Gaultier de Haillenarte, Speaker of the House of Lords, was a man of meticulous detail both in his work and in his personal life. He noted Haurchefant’s arrival to be fifteen minutes later than usual. 

“Get held up in traffic this morning, Haurchefant?” he asked as his assistant walked in.

“I… you could say that,” Haurchefant replied. “There wasn’t an accident on the road or anything, lest you wonder. I had something personal to attend to.”

“Alright, then. Better late than never, anyway.”

Haurchefant set about preparing the morning’s pot of coffee before taking a seat at his desk. He was stationed just outside the door to the Lord Speaker’s private offices, and served as the final line of defense between his employer and any who wished to borrow the lord’s time. He glanced down at the to-do list he’d left for himself the previous evening. There were a list of lords to contact about proposed legislation, meetings to arrange, and supplies to order. It was not a very glamourous job, but Haurchefant had somehow made himself indispensable in the some-odd years he’d been working at the Vault. He booted up his personal terminal, preparing for another long day…

He then felt the buzz of his Tomephone in his pocket. He took it out, brow furrowed, wondering who could be contacting him on a personal line in his first hour of work— 

The message was from Aoife.

_Aoife Springbreeze >>Me, 9:27 AM: made it to class on time! ヾ(*ゝω・*)ノ _

Haurchefant stared at his phone for a good five minutes before finally realizing it might be prudent to reply.

_Me >>Aoife Springbreeze, 9:32 AM: :D _

The response was uncharacteristically concise for him, but no mere words could express his absolute elation that she’d texted him so soon. That she’d wanted to share with him so small a victory as arriving on time… A simple smiley would have to suffice to convey how he felt.

Some time later Lord Gaultier emerged from his office to inquire whether his assistant had finished with the coffee, only to find Haurchefant hunched over his desk, phone in hand, smiling to himself like an absolute fool.

“Haurchefant,” he said, and his assistant jumped to attention. “Coffee?”

“R-right, yes ser…”

Haurchefant left his phone on the desk and went to prepare his employer’s coffee: a dark, bitter roast flavored by the nobility, with a generous portion of cream to take the edge off. He prepared a cup for himself as well, though he added significantly less cream.

“What’s got you so chuffed, if I might ask?” Lord Gaultier asked as Haurchefant handed off his cup.

“Chuffed, my lord?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you smiling at your phone just now. And if I had to guess…” Lord Gaultier put a hand to his chin, pretending to think deeply about words he’d clearly already chosen. “You’ve found yourself another girlfriend?”

“I—my _lord,”_ Haurchefant flushed brightly. “No, and in any case—!”

“A boyfriend this time, then.”

“Not that I would be opposed to one, but no.” Haurchefant shook his head. “In _any case_ , such talk is hardly appropriate for the workplace. Don’t you have legislation to be drafting, my lord?”

“I _suppose,”_ said Lord Gaultier, heaving a very fake sigh. Such was the teasing friendship shared by diplomat and assistant. “Try not to let your fancies distract you overmuch, Haurchefant. You’ve work to do as well.”

“I know, I know…”

Haurchefant took a seat at his desk as Lord Gaultier returned to his office. He checked his phone just in case he had any more texts from her, but his notifications were empty. He wanted to send her another text, but decided against it; she was in class, and he had work to be doing anyway. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, and went about opening his messages on the terminal to see if anything needing his attention had come in overnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to make the texts pink to look like ingame tells but im too lazy to figure out ao3 workskins lmao


	4. Haurchefant's got it bad (like, really bad)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being fairly long, whoops
> 
> and a small warning for sexual harassment mention in this chapter; I don't think it's explicit enough to tag for, but I figured I'd put it out there just in case!

Haurchefant had never been an avid texter.

Within a week of trading numbers with her, he and Aoife were exchanging texts near-constantly throughout the day.

It was rarely about anything of consequence, either, which surprised him. In past dealings with lovers (Aoife was hardly his first crush, it should be said), he’d tended to chat over text only about important things—the times of dates, preferences for meals & entertainment, weekend plans. He much preferred to connect with people in person, which is why it was so strange that with Aoife he had to actively stop himself from texting her every little thought that came into his head. Given the volume of texts she sent to him, it seemed she was having the same issue. 

Normally he would be put off by a constantly buzzing phone, but Haurchefant found himself genuinely excited each time a text from her came in. Even if it was inconsequential, which it often was: she would describe the more comical instances of drama at the museum, or ask him to clarify points of Ishgardian culture that confused her (“There wasn’t _really_ a communal salt lick on every Ishgardian dinner table in the old days, was there? I would swear my classmate is making that up, but…”). She would even tell him about the Tomephone games she’d been playing on her commute; the mobile RPG _Skyblue Fantasy_ seemed to be her current addiction. Haurchefant in turn sent her photos of the city—the Vault was situated in the uppermost levels of the Pillars, and the view from the higher floors was unparalleled—along with silly little questions he’d think of when the phones were slow and his tasks were done. Aoife always answered them, and would follow them up with questions of her own. Questions would bring up stories, stories would raise more questions, and so their conversations flowed… Haurchefant even found himself downloading _Skyblue Fantasy_ just so that he could understand what she was talking about, and Aoife proved to be an enthusiastic skyfaring mentor.

As the weeks passed, he started texting her before he went to sleep. The first time he thought to bid her goodnight, he wasn’t too sure if or how she would respond—it was a particularly intimate time to be texting with someone, after all—but she responded not too long later:

_Me >>Aoife Springbreeze, 10:18 PM: Goodnight, Aoife. I’ll see you on the morrow.  
_ _Aoife Springbreeze >>Me, 10:20 PM: nite, horchefant! (did i spell your name right this time?) _

Haurchefant smiled to himself.

_Me >>Aoife Springbreeze, 10:21 PM: Haurchefant. No worries, though. :)  
_ _Aoife Springbreeze >>Me, 10:22 PM: sorry, i still had it spelled wrong in my phone. i’ll fix it right now lol  
_ _Me >>Aoife Springbreeze, 10:23 PM: Haha, what did you have it as?  
_ _Aoife Springbreeze >>Me, 10:25 PM: h  
_ _Aoife Springbreeze >>Me, 10:27 PM: horchata………  
_ _Me >>Aoife Springbreeze, 10:27 PM: LOL  
_ _Aoife Springbreeze >>Me, 10:28 PM: this is so embarrassing, i’m so sorry  
_ _Me >>Aoife Springbreeze, 10:29 PM: Please don’t apologize. I think it’s a cute nickname.  
_ _Me >>Aoife Springbreeze, 10:30 PM: You can call me Horchata if you’d like. I won’t mind.  
_ _Aoife Springbreeze >>Me, 10:31 PM: im goign to die of embarrassment good nIGHT _

After this exchange went better than expected, goodnight texts became his habit. There was something that felt so… _nice_ about seeing her almost first thing in the morning, and then getting to bid her goodnight at the end of each day. All the better when, after about a week of nightly “goodnight” texts, he woke one morning to find another text from her waiting for him:

_Aoife Springbreeze >>Me, 6:04 AM: good morning! let’s make it a great day ヾ(｡･ω･｡) _

His heart soared, to think that she thought of him first thing upon waking…

It had long been obvious to him that he was at least somewhat in love with her—he was not the sort of man who would lie to himself about how he felt—but this was the first time he’d entertained the thought that, just maybe, she felt something similar for him. That perhaps there was something left unsaid in all those “goodnights” they sent back and forth... He could barely contain his excitement just imagining it. 

And yet he didn’t want to overstep his bounds, or, gods forbid, turn out to be misreading her signals completely. He resolved to keep his feelings to himself until such time as he could be certain that she could return them. Just talking with her each day would be enough… 

Or so he thought.

* * *  
  


It was an uncommonly quiet afternoon at the Vault when Haurchefant’s Tomephone began to jingle with a bright, cheerful melody.

“Is that yours, Haurchefant?” Lord Gaultier asked from his office.

“Yes, my lord.” 

“The Chocobo song? Really?”

“It sparks joy, if you must know.”

Haurchefant hastily fished his phone out of his pocket—who could be calling him on his personal line in the middle of the workday? To his surprise (and no small amount of delight) the caller ID read _Aoife Springbreeze._

“May I take this, my lord?”

“If it’s important.”

Lord Gaultier couldn’t have known that a call from Aoife was, in fact, of paramount importance. She’d never called him before, and she must have known he was at work during this time—which could only mean that whatever she had to tell him couldn’t wait. Haurchefant dragged the call icon upward and brought the phone to his ear.

“Aoife?”

“Haurchefant?” Aoife’s voice came through from the other end, though her surrounds were somewhat noisy in the background. There was an uncertainty in her tone.

“Are you alright?” Haurchefant asked.

“Y-yeah… sorry for calling out of the blue… ” said Aoife. “I just… I had a rough day at school, and I wanted to hear your voice…”

Haurchefant could hardly believe his ears.

“You… you wanted to…?”

“Yeah… sorry if it sounds weird,” said Aoife. “Talking to you always cheers me up, so…”

“No need to apologize,” said Haurchefant quickly, trying to ignore the untimely arousal he felt at the notion that she wanted to hear _his_ voice. Now was neither the time nor place for such thoughts. “Er—can you wait just a moment? Let me step outside…”

“Okay.”

Haurchefant covered the microphone with his hand and leaned over in his seat to have a clear view of Lord Gaultier at his desk. The Speaker of the House met his eyes expectantly.

“I need to step out for a moment, if that’s permissible.”

“Well go on then, boy,” said Lord Gaultier, waving his hand in a shooing motion. “It’s clearly important, whatever it is.” 

Haurchefant gave an appreciative nod before standing up and grabbing his coat. He all but sprinted into the hallway—where would be the best place for a private call? He didn’t think there was much chance of him losing his job over a personal call, but he didn’t want to risk being overheard all the same. He didn’t raise the phone to his ear again until he’d made it outside, the cold air stinging his cheeks.

“Aoife? Are you still there?”

“I’m here…”

“Thank you for waiting,” said Haurchefant. “Er… are you alright telling me what happened, or would you like me to help get your mind off it?”

Aoife was quiet for a few moments. Haurchefant could hear some kind of announcement sounding in the background, though couldn’t make out what.

“I guess it might help, to talk about it… It’s hard, though…”

“You weren’t—?” Haurchefant paused, considering his words carefully. “You weren’t assaulted, were you…?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that, thank the gods,” said Aoife. “It wasn’t quite that bad. It’s just… a couple of students approached me after class—I’m a TA for one of the history courses, and I was teaching the class they were in. They… they tried to solicit me for… well, you know. They’d heard some things about viera and just assumed…” Her voice wavered.

“That’s just awful,” said Haurchefant, and he truly meant it. It was only too plain what those students were after. 

“They didn’t do anything to me, but… I was so scared that I froze up,” Aoife admitted. “If the professor hadn’t stepped in to tell them off, I don’t know what I would’ve done…”

“It’s a fortune they stepped in when they did, then,” said Haurchefant. 

“I mean, only kind of,” said Aoife. “He got them off my back, sure, but then he told _me_ to be more careful. To watch what I wear, even—and I wasn’t even wearing anything sexy today!”

“I might have expected that kind of behavior from deacons at the scholasticate,” said Haurchefant, “But that a professor at a secular institution could be so careless… truly appalling. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Aoife. Is there anything I can do?” 

“I don’t think so, but… just listening to me has helped a lot. Thank you…” 

“Are you still at school? Would you like me to come meet you? I can bring something warm to drink, if you’d like.” 

“Oh… that’s nice of you, but I’m already on the bus home,” said Aoife. “I told Ser de Durendaire that I wasn’t feeling well, and he let me skip my museum shift today.”

“I see…” Haurchefant’s heart fell a little, but he knew she was making the right choice for herself. “Well, just know that anytime you need a shoulder to lean on, you need only say the word. I will be at your side in an instant.”

He couldn’t be certain, but Aoife seemed to laugh on the other end.

“Thank you…” she said. “That’s so sweet of you…”

“I mean that,” Haurchefant went on. “You may think me facetious, but I do mean it. It matters not what time of day, or whether I’m tied up with something or other—you’re a dear friend to me, Aoife, and if you ever have need of my help, I will readily drop everything to be there for you.”

Suddenly realizing that he was giving voice to thoughts he’d planned to keep buried, Haurchefant fell quiet.

“Haurchefant?” said Aoife. “Are you still there?”

“Oh—yes, sorry. I got a bit carried away. I hope I haven’t said too much…” 

“Oh, no, it’s fine!” said Aoife. Haurchefant could picture her waving her hands apologetically on the other end. “I’m actually… really happy to hear that. Even if you can’t be here right now, it means a lot.”

“Of course,” said Haurchefant, smiling. “It is but the least I can do.”

Another announcement sounded in the background on Aoife’s end, and she breathed a quiet sigh.

“Um…” said Aoife. “This might sound selfish, but… can you stay on the line for a little while? I don’t really want to say goodbye yet…”

Haurchefant quickly checked the time; it had been about ten minutes since he’d left the office. He could probably spare another ten before Lord Gaultier came looking for him.

“Um, if you have to go back to work, don’t worry about it,” Aoife added. “I’ll be okay—!”

“No, no, I’m happy to stay on the line,” Haurchefant cut in. “My time is yours.”

“Thank you…” said Aoife. She was quiet for a few moments before taking a nervous breath. “Er… I know I asked you to stay, but… For once, I actually don’t know what to talk about…”

“Hm… oh! Did you play the new _Skyblue_ event?” Haurchefant offered. “I haven’t finished it yet, but I’m finding these secret society characters to be very compelling so far.”

“Oh! Yeah, I finished it last night!” Aoife brightened immediately. “It was great; I think you’ll really like the rest. Eustace got a lot of screen time, too…!”

Her attention thus redirected, Aoife readily launched into talk of _Skyblue’s_ event history: the current event story followed on from several others and continued the adventures of its central characters. Aoife’s favorite character was part of this group, and Haurchefant had surmised (correctly) that talking about him would be sure to cheer her up. From the way she went on, one would never have guessed that not too long earlier she’d sounded on the verge of tears.

Haurchefant, of course, didn’t mind listening to her ramble about _Skyblue_ —and not just so that she could fill him in on the events leading to the current story. Over the weeks they’d been talking to each other each day, he’d begun to think that she was at her most beautiful when she was talking about the things that brought her joy. Her enthusiasm was somewhat infectious, and it had been no small part of the reason he’d ended up downloading _Skyblue_ himself. He doubted he’d ever understand it as well as she did, but he treasured it all the same. It was one more thing they could share together… 

Finally, as their conversation began to ebb, Haurchefant caught the stop announcement for Fallgourd Float on the other end of the line.

“My stop’s coming up…” said Aoife. “Thank you for talking to me, and hearing me out. It… meant more than I can say.”

“Of course,” said Haurchefant. He smiled warmly, though he knew she couldn’t see it. He hoped it would come across in his voice. “What are friends for, if not this?”

“Yeah… you’re right,” said Aoife. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Haurchefant.”

“Mm. Have a safe trip home, Aoife. I’ll see you on the morrow, as always.”

Haurchefant’s phone fell silent, signalling that Aoife had ended the call. Haurchefant stared at it for a few moments, noting the 25-minute call time, before bringing the phone to his chest. He breathed a quiet sigh, and the vapor of his breath formed a cloud in the chill air.

_Would that I could have done so much more for you…_

Haurchefant wished she’d called him sooner, before getting on the bus. He’d had half a mind to hike to the nearest Aethernet shard before she’d revealed she was already homeward bound. Lord Gaultier was unlikely to be amused by his sudden and early departure, but in this one instance he found himself not caring what his employer thought. He would have given anything to be able to be there for her, physically—to provide a shoulder to lean on in more than name only. To bring her something warm to drink, to lift her spirits… perhaps even to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, should she be amenable. Or more than that, if she so wished… 

Ah, but he was getting ahead of himself again.

Haurchefant looked up toward the overcast sky, the spires of the Pillars seeming to stretch on to the heavens.

_I have to tell her._

Haurchefant didn’t think he could stand bottling up his feelings much longer, if their phone call hadn’t already made them obvious. He longed to speak plain. He was in love with her, and had been for a while, and the thought of having to go on pretending he wasn’t—that the mere thought of her didn’t light a fire in him—made his heart ache. 

There was, of course, always the chance that his feelings wouldn’t be returned. That his confession would put a wrench in the friendship they already had. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about that possibility. But at the same time, he resolved that he would rather say something than go on not knowing whether she felt the same.

_Ere next we meet, I’ll tell her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The game Aoife and Haurchefant are playing is a thinly veiled nod to [Granblue Fantasy](https://granbluefantasy.jp/en/), which is a very good mobile RPG that can be played by anyone with google chrome, for free, no need for proxy apps or anything, you can just play it in English right from your browser, and at the time of writing there's an extremely generous free rolls campaign going on wait where are you going come back


	5. No, yeah, like a date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I want that elf obliterated" - Aoife, probably

“Ere next we meet” came as soon as it always did: the following morning on the bus to Ishgard. Haurchefant was practically vibrating from excitement while he awaited the bus, planning out what he was going to say in his head—though each iteration of his confessions grew increasingly more roundabout. Haurchefant was not normally one to mince words, but in this instance he found himself waffling over what to say to her. 

The bus arrived before he had a chance to pick something. He took a deep breath before boarding.

Once he got on, he immediately noticed someone waving to him: it was Aoife, from an elevated seat near the back. She’d put her bag down on the seat next to her to prevent anyone else from sitting there. Haurchefant steeled his nerves before approaching. Aoife moved her bag to the floor, and he slid into the seat next to her.

“Er, Aoife—!”

“Haurchefant, I—!”

Having both tried to speak at the same time, the two fell silent. The bus rumbled back to life and began its drive to the next stop.

“You go first, Aoife,” said Haurchefant, motioning with his hand.

“Are you sure?” said Aoife.

“Ladies first.”

“Alright, alright.” Aoife breathed in, gathering her thoughts. “Um… I wanted to thank you again for your help yesterday. It really meant more than you know, and, well… I thought I should do something to show my appreciation. So… would you like to, uh—go out to dinner sometime? My treat.”

“W-well, I’m hardly one to turn down an offer of food,” said Haurchefant, slightly taken aback by her proposal. “But I’m not sure whether what I did merits such a generous reward… I merely did what any friend would.”

“No need to be so humble, Haurchefant,” said Aoife with a smile. “I’m asking because I _want_ to treat you, whether you think you deserve it or not. So? What do you say?”

She had him there. How could he turn down such an earnest request?

“It’ll be a date, then!” Haurchefant responded, playfully this time. He paused once he realized what he’d said. “I mean—not a date. It doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be—!”

“No, yeah, like a date,” said Aoife, nodding a little for emphasis.

“Oh,” said Haurchefant simply. And then, not too long after, “Ohhhhhhh!!”

_She…! She beat me to the punch…!_

He almost couldn’t contain his excitement; it took all of his self control not to pull her into his arms for a hug on the spot. He’d had his suspicions—one doesn’t usually text “good morning” and “goodnight” to someone they merely consider a friend—but to hear some kind of confirmation that she was, in fact, interested in him romantically was enough to put him on cloud nine.

“Now that I’ve said my piece,” said Aoife, her voice pulling him back down from the clouds, “What were you going to say earlier, Haurchefant?”

“Oh—it, er, it doesn’t matter now,” said Haurchefant, scratching the back of his head bashfully. “I was actually planning to ask you the same thing. On a date, I mean.”

Aoife’s eyes lit up.

“Really?”

“Perhaps not in so many words, but. Yes.” Haurchefant smiled to himself. “You’ve… come to mean a lot to me, Aoife, and lately I’ve found myself wanting to be more to you than just a friendly face on your commute. If you’re amenable to the idea, then… I would love to spend much more time with you.”

“Aww… Haurchefant…!” Aoife put a hand to her chest. “That’s so sweet…!”

“So,” he said, taking out his Tomephone. “What time shall we meet for our date?”

“How does tomorrow sound?” said Aoife. 

“Tomorrow? Not tonight?”

“I have plans with my mother tonight,” said Aoife, flashing an apologetic grin. “Besides, I’m not wearing the right clothes for a first date.”

Haurchefant begged to differ—Aoife’s cable-knit sweater, enormous scarf, fashionable skirt and heeled boots seemed like exactly the kind of thing he would expect a woman to wear on a first date. But perhaps Aoife had something different in mind? He couldn’t imagine what, but he was excited to find out.

“Fair enough,” he said. “Tomorrow, then…”

The two worked out a time and meeting place—6 o’clock sharp, in front of one of Ishgard’s more affordable restaurants. It was practically a stone’s throw from the university, and close enough to an aethernet shard that Haurchefant would have no trouble arriving on time. As he entered the details into his phone, Haurchefant found himself wishing he could change the speed of time at will: the next 36 hours of waiting were going to be somewhat agonizing. The thought of finally spending time with her outside their half-bell commute, and Aoife wearing an outfit she picked out just for him…!

Aoife seemed to sense Haurchefant’s impatience. She reached for his hand, twining her fingers with his. 

“Oh…!” He glanced over at her, and she smiled back at him in response.

“I’m already looking forward to tomorrow,” she said, quietly.

“M-myself as well,” Haurchefant answered, though his mind was almost entirely preoccupied with the feeling of her hand in his. Her skin warm and soft against his own… This was the first time they’d touched in all the time they’d known each other, aside from accidental bumps or brushes as the bus moved beneath them. He hadn’t noticed until now how much smaller her hands were than his; it took seeing her fingers peeking out between his to fully realize the difference in size. 

And yet… there was something so _right_ about the way their hands fit together. 

Aoife took her Tomephone out with her free hand, loading up _Skyblue_ with a single tap. Haurchefant considered asking if she wanted him to release her so she could play, but Aoife made no motion to free herself from his grip. 

For his part, Haurchefant was content to let her hold his hand for the entire bus ride to Foundation.

  
* * *  
  


The following evening, Haurchefant arrived a few minutes early to the restaurant. 

He hadn’t exactly “dressed up” for the occasion, as the restaurant in question wasn’t particularly fancy, but he had taken some care with his outfit that morning: a warm but stylish peacoat, form-fitting turtleneck, slacks, and monk strap shoes. To complete the look, he had dug his leather gloves out of the closet—he typically only wore them for more formal occasions, but he liked the air of style and sophistication they gave him. 

Haurchefant fished his Tomephone out of his pocket to confirm the time. He’d only been standing there for a minute or two, so it was still early. He couldn’t help worrying a little nonetheless: he hadn’t seen her on the bus that morning. It was entirely possible she’d missed her bus, or had to take an earlier one for whatever reason, but part of him still worried that something had gone wrong. She hadn’t texted him to cancel, though, so he could only assume she was still coming…

“Haurchefant!”

Haurchefant looked up at the sound of her voice, and of heels clacking toward him up the cobblestone street. His mouth fell open at the sight of her.

Aoife had chosen a _very_ flattering outfit that evening: a stylish winter coat worn open over an embroidered blouse (with, it should be said, a particularly low cut rarely seen in Ishgard), black slacks, and heeled leather boots that came up to her thighs. She waved at him cheerily as she approached, black gloves peeking out from the sleeves of her coat. Haurchefant didn’t think he’d ever seen her in such an eye-catching ensemble—the blouse alone was enough to make his heart stop.

“Sorry I missed you this morning,” said Aoife, coming to a stop just across from him. “I spent so long picking out an outfit for tonight that I missed my bus…”

Realizing that his eyes were lingering on the generous plunge of her neckline, Haurchefant furtively glanced away.

“It’s no trouble,” he said. “Your efforts are, ah… appreciated…”

Aoife grinned.

“Like what you see, huh?”

“I—that would be an understatement,” said Haurchefant. “Aoife, you look _incredible._ So much so that I cant help but feel somewhat underdressed…” 

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” said Aoife. “You look good, Haurchefant. Is that coat new?”

“Ah, no, I’ve had it for a while,” said Haurchefant. “I just don’t have much opportunity to wear it. It feels too stylish for casual outings, but not quite formal enough for work events.”

“You should wear it more,” said Aoife, prodding his arm playfully. “Nothing wrong with looking nice just because!”

“I suppose that’s true,” said Haurchefant, answering her with a somewhat bashful smile. He’d never really looked at it that way before.

“Should we head in?” said Aoife. She indicated to the door with her head. 

“Oh! Yes, we should. I made a reservation for 6:00…”

“Then let’s go!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art that goes with this chapter can be found [here!](https://jewish-anime.tumblr.com/post/637013051148812288/wolhaurch-modern-au-first-date-aoife-spent-so) I ended up using in-game pieces to figure out what her outfit would be, though having the coat open to show the dirndl bodice underneath was... just for fun 👀
> 
> (Steal her looks: [[1]](https://ffxiv.eorzeacollection.com/glamour/67812/girlfriend-material) [[2]](https://ffxiv.eorzeacollection.com/glamour/65601/winter-date-night))


	6. Dinner date dinner date

Once they’d taken their seats and placed their orders, the two of them fell into conversation as naturally as ever. It was strange: on his previous experiences with first dates there’d been much small talk, awkward searching for a topic, asking basic questions and getting basic answers in return. But this dinner with Aoife didn’t feel like something so formal or ceremonious as a first date. On the contrary, it somehow felt more like a reunion of two friends who’d gone a long time without seeing each other in person. Stranger still that he should feel this way with someone he saw daily.

The conversation ebbed a little once food arrived and the two of them busied themselves with their meals, but as their plates emptied they picked back up to their previous pace. 

“Eorzean food is so rich and vibrant,” Aoife commented, settling into her chair a little. “It’s so different from the food I grew up eating in the jungle.”

Haurchefant tilted his head a little.

“Oh, have I not told you?” Aoife frowned. Haurchefant shook his head—Aoife hadn’t been particularly forthcoming about her origins. He knew she lived in Gridania with her mother, and she’d mentioned having migrated to Eorzea when she was younger. She didn’t tend to speak about her life before that, though, and Haurchefant knew better than to pry. “Mamma and I came from the Golmore Jungle in Othard.”

“I see,” said Haurchefant. “What is Golmoran food like?”

“It’s much simpler, for one thing,” said Aoife. “Lots of game meats and fish; hunting was our main source of food. But we also raised a few crops that could coexist with the trees of the jungle, and ate from fruit trees growing near the village…” Her eyes wandered to the half-empty bread basket on the table. “I’ll never forget the first time I had bread in Eorzea. In the jungle our bread was flat; I couldn’t believe how fluffy Eorzean bread is…”

Haurchefant couldn’t help smiling.

“Coming here was harder for Mamma than it was for me,” Aoife went on. “I was still young, so I could adapt easily, but Mamma’s in her two hundreds already—!”

“Excuse me—two  _ hundreds?!” _ Haurchefant nearly choked on his drink.

“Yeah. Viera live a long time,” said Aoife. “Elezen live to see about a hundred summers, right? Viera can live to see three times that.”

“Goodness, I had no idea,” said Haurchefant. “It’s said the Warrior of Light was exceptionally long-lived, but I had always assumed the legends were exaggerating…”

Aoife shook her head, smiling coyly.

“Viera retain their youth until their twilight years, too,” she went on. “I could be twice your age—three times that, even—and you’d never be able to guess.”

“Er,” said Haurchefant. “I hope this doesn’t seem rude, but… may I ask…?”

“I’m only twenty-five, relax,” said Aoife. “Mamma and I didn’t come to Eorzea all that long ago.”

“I see.” Haurchefant breathed a quiet sigh of relief—not that he would have minded if Aoife actually was twice his age. He elected not to say this out loud. Searching for a new topic, he added, “What was life like in the village?”

To this, however, Aoife put a finger to her lips.

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” she said. “Viera who live in the jungle are very secretive, and their laws forbid them from telling outsiders about their ways. Mamma was actually banished in the first place because she helped an outsider instead of killing them on the spot.”

“Oh my,” said Haurchefant. “Such a difficult position, having to choose between taking a life or leaving your own life behind…”

“Yeah… Mamma always thought the rules were bollocks, though,” said Aoife. “She knew in her heart that she’d done the right thing, and she wasn’t terribly sad to leave our village behind. Too stuffy, she always said. After two hundred years of stuffiness, enough was enough. She wanted to spend her last century finding out what else there was in the world.”

“What about you, though? It couldn’t have been easy…”

“Me… I suppose I didn’t really know better one way or another,” said Aoife, something contemplative in her tone. “I had just reached my thirteenth summer, which is when a viera is considered an adult. I was given the choice to go or stay. I didn’t really give the decision much thought, looking back on it. I just knew I wasn’t ready to say a permanent goodbye to my mother.”

“So you decided to join her in exile.”

“Mm-hm.” Aoife nodded before taking another sip of her drink. “I don’t regret it, though. We traveled around for a while, and I got to see all kinds of new places before we found somewhere to settle down. Rabanastre, Garlemald, Ala Mhigo… All of them had their charms, but Gridania reminded Mamma of home. We’ve been living there ever since.”

Haurchefant nodded.

“And now you know the story of how I ended up in Eorzea,” said Aoife matter-of-factly. “I went on for longer than I meant to… Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” said Haurchefant, smiling warmly. “You know I always love to hear your stories, Aoife. You could have gone on for much longer and I would have listened gladly.”

“Y… yeah…” Aoife flushed a little and glanced away; his earnest response had taken her by surprise. “Um… now that I’ve told you where I came from, what about you? I mean—that’s not what I meant to say, but—!”

“No, no, I get what you mean,” said Haurchefant. “You’d like to hear more about my past, am I right?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s not quite so exciting as yours, I’m afraid,” Haurchefant went on. “I was born here in Ishgard, to commoner parents. I’m embarrassed to admit I’ve not done nearly as much traveling as you have. Anyx Trine is possibly the most interesting place I’ve been…”

“That’s cool, though,” said Aoife. “What are your parents like?”

“My parents…?” Haurchefant tilted his head at her question.

“Oh, I mean…” Aoife smiled bashfully. “I don’t know what it’s like to have two parents. I’ve never met my father—most male viera live solitary lives in the jungle.”

“I see,” said Haurchefant. 

“Sorry, that was probably a weird question…”

“No, not at all!” Haurchefant reassured her. “My parents operate a small cafe and bookstore in Whitebrim.”

“Oh, that’s so cute!” 

“I’m glad you think so,” said Haurchefant. “It’s not exactly the most glamorous job, but the two of them put a lot of heart into what they do…”

Haurchefant had told this story multiple times, to a plethora of people: his parents’ cafe was a quiet mom-and-pop establishment, popular with those who liked the quaint and cozy. It was beloved by highborn and lowborn alike, and even tourists from other lands would visit at the recommendation of their guides. They’d been running it since before Haurchefant was born—though not without interruption.

“It actually burned down once, when my mother was pregnant with me,” Haurchefant explained. “The building was hundreds of years old. There was a gas leak one night, and the whole place went up in flames.”

“That’s awful!” said Aoife. “I’m guessing it got rebuilt, though?”

“Mm,” said Haurchefant with a nod. “At first my parents didn’t think they would be able to rebuild, but one of their regular patrons stepped up to finance a complete reconstruction. It turned out that this young fellow was a scion of House Fortemps, one of Ishgard’s founding noble houses. It’s thanks to his kindness that my parents were able to get back on their feet, and their cafe was rebuilt almost exactly as it was before—with improvements to bring it up to modern fire safety standards, of course.”

“Of course,” Aoife echoed.

“My parents were incredibly grateful to House Fortemps for their aid, and once I was born, they decided to name me after a Fortemps knight remembered for his kindness.”

“Haurchefant Greystone…” said Aoife quietly.

“Indeed.” Haurchefant smiled to himself. Recalling the origin of his name always filled him with a swell of pride. He’d read as much as he could of his namesake’s travails, and he could think of no knight whose name he would rather bear.

“That’s such a good story for how you got your name,” said Aoife. “I’m a little jealous, to be honest. I just picked the name ‘Aoife’ because I like the Warrior of Light…”

“You did mention having picked that name when we met,” said Haurchefant. “Aoife isn’t really your name, then?”

“It’s my city name,” said Aoife with a shrug. “It might as well be my real name by now. Viera don’t use our forest names outside the jungle, and I’ve been going by ‘Aoife’ for so long I probably wouldn’t answer to my forest name anymore.”

“So you had to pick a new name when you left?” said Haurchefant, frowning a little.

“Mm-hm,” said Aoife. “But it’s okay—I like it this way. City names can be anything you want, and you get to pick them yourself instead of your mom picking one for you.” 

“I see. I hadn’t looked at it that way before…” said Haurchefant.

“Mamma decided on the name ‘Blossom Springbreeze’, for some reason,” said Aoife. “She wanted me to take the name ‘Petal’ so we’d match. I don’t think I’ve ever given her a stronger  _ no _ in my life.”

Haurchefant couldn’t help laughing.

“Petal!”

“I know!” said Aoife. “Can you imagine? Talking to me all this time and my name is  _ Petal!” _

“While I’ll admit that I like the name Aoife better, to be honest, I can’t think of much that would change,” said Haurchefant. “You could be named something absolutely outrageous and I would enjoy talking to you all the same.”

“Ah…” Aoife flushed; once again his earnest answer had caught her off-guard. She twirled a lock of her hair between her fingers nervously, looking away. “I… I guess that makes sense…”

Haurchefant didn’t think he’d ever seen this side of her before. 

_ Cute… _

It made his heart dance a little, to think that he’d get to discover many more unseen sides of her from here on. Perhaps even to see the sides of her she wouldn’t show to anyone else…

He was getting ahead of himself again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't originally going to go into their date in detail, but then i realized i could use it as a convenient backstory dump, and so here we are
> 
> In my first draft I had Aoife calling her mother "mom" in a very modern-sounding way, but decided to go with the Icelandic "mamma" instead. 
> 
> "Why Icelandic?" [viera use Icelandic names](https://forum.square-enix.com/ffxiv/threads/398565), and an Icelandic accent was chosen for the viera in FF12 specifically because it wasn't an accent most english-speaking players are familiar with [(source)](https://www.usgamer.net/articles/a-voice-for-ivalice-the-localization-and-voice-acting-of-final-fantasy-xii). So, Icelandic.


	7. The One Where They Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had soooo much fun writing this chapter fkhj
> 
> Maybe one day I'll be able to come up with thoughtful titles for fic chapters again

A light snow had begun to fall by the time the two of them left the restaurant. Aoife held her hand out, catching a few crystalline flakes in the palm of her black glove. Haurchefant drew his coat tighter around himself and buttoned it the rest of the way up. Once sufficiently secured against the cold, he turned to his date with a smile and held an arm out for her to take. Aoife gladly linked her arm with his, and the two of them set off toward the Steps of Faith.

For the first few minutes, they walked in silence—rather, neither of them felt a particular need to fill the quiet. Considering how much of their friendship was rooted in conversation, Haurchefant was surprised to find himself enjoying this quiet walk by her side. A small part of him wondered whether now would be the perfect time for a kiss: they’d had their dinner date, and the end of their time together was fast approaching. What better way to bring their evening to a close? Ah, but he didn’t want to rush her… 

“Um… Haurchefant?” said Aoife after a time. “I wanted to say… thank you.”

“For?” Haurchefant raised an eyebrow.

“For tonight,” said Aoife, leaning into his arm a little. “I had a really good time with you. I’ve, um, never been on a date before, so…”

_“Really?”_ Haurchefant could hardly believe it. _I had the honor of being her first…?_

“Yeah…” Aoife admitted bashfully. “So, um… what I wanted to say is, I’d like to do this again sometime.”

“Oh—you would?!” Haurchefant blurted.

“Yeah…” She looked away, ears drooping nervously. “It doesn’t always have to be a fancy dinner or anything, but… I’d like to keep spending time with you. Maybe as more than just friends, if that’s okay…”

“Aoife.” Haurchefant stopped walking and turned to face her. “Of _course_ I would like to spend more time together with you. Talking with you these last few moons has brought me nothing but warmth and joy and _love_ _,_ and if you would have me, I would like nothing more than to show you just how much you’ve come to mean to me.” 

“Haurchefant…” Aoife responded quietly. The look on her face at that moment… she looked about as happy as he himself felt. Her eyes searched him, as if waiting to see if he had any more to say. Waiting for him to make the next move, even… 

“Aoife…” Haurchefant put his hands on her shoulders, gently, but with a firmness that he hoped would communicate his intent. It was now or never. “I… May I—?!”

It happened faster than he could register: in a fraction of a moment Aoife had taken hold of his lapels and pulled him down into a kiss, cutting him off mid-sentence.

“—?!”

She held him there only briefly; before too long it seemed to occur to her what she’d done, and she bashfully pulled away. She wouldn’t look at him for a few minutes, her face almost as red as her coat.

“Sorry…” she said, running a hand over her ears and flattening them back against her head. “I, um… I should probably have asked first…”

Haurchefant could find nothing to say in response; her bold move had left him completely stunned. Why was it that each time he had some careful plan for communicating how he felt, she always had to go and beat him to it?? And yet, somehow, it was just like her to find new and unexpected ways to charm him. He was almost disappointed she hadn’t kissed him for longer. She could have. He would gladly have let her… 

“Haurchefant?”

Ah, but that was a problem easily fixed.

Haurchefant gently took her head in his hands and pressed his lips to hers.

“Mm—!”

Aoife let out a startled squeak, but she made no indication that his response was unwelcome. To the contrary, she reached up to take hold of the back of his coat before sinking into his embrace. 

The soft touch of her lips, the warmth of her skin, the way her body curled into his… he hesitated to throw the word _perfect_ around, but that was the word that came to mind for how it felt to finally kiss her. This time Haurchefant was able to keep her there for as long as he wanted—which, as it happened, was a considerable amount of time. Now that she’d finally answered all his unspoken desires, he was loath to release her. Passerby took detours around them, shooting snide looks in their direction; such public displays of affection were somewhat frowned upon in Ishgard, but Haurchefant found himself struggling to care. The archbishop himself could have witnessed their exchange and he wouldn’t have cared a whit. 

It was a good while before the two of them finally drew back to catch their breath. Aoife looked up at him in almost a daze; it was clear she’d never been kissed with such intensity before, and for a moment Haurchefant worried he’d gone too far. The broad smile on her lips, however, told him that she had very much enjoyed it. For a minute or two neither were quite sure what to say to each other, having shared such an intimate moment out in the open…

“I, uh,” Aoife offered, finally. “I guess that makes us even?”

Haurchefant couldn’t help laughing, his voice ringing out in the chill night air.

“I suppose it does.”

“Um…” Aoife grimaced a little. “What were you going to say, earlier?”

“Hm?”

“Before I kissed you, it sounded like you were going to say something,” said Aoife, somewhat bashfully. “Do you remember what it was?”

“Oh!” Haurchefant laughed lightly, and gave a shrug in response. “It doesn’t matter now. I was about to ask if it would be alright to kiss you.”

“Oh…” Aoife giggled. “Yeah, I guess it’s a little late, huh…”

“It’s alright,” said Haurchefant. “I rather liked your solution.”

“I gathered _that_ much, at least.” Aoife shot him a playful grin, which he returned. Seeming to realize something, she brought up her watch hand and pushed her coat sleeve up slightly to check the time. “Ah, the bus…”

“Did we miss it?” Haurchefant asked. 

“It’s past eight… The next one isn’t for half a bell.”

“That sounds to my ear like the opposite of a problem,” said Haurchefant, his grin never fading. “We could find somewhere quiet to… pick up where we left off?”

Aoife snorted.

“You’re eager to get back to snogging, I see.”

“W-well…” Haurchefant fidgeted a little. He’d gladly miss the rest of the night’s buses if he could spend that time with her instead… 

Aoife took a deep breath, sighing in spite of herself.

“Just as long as we don’t miss the next bus too, or Mamma will start to wonder where I am. I told her I wouldn’t be back too late, but…” She glanced up at him coyly. “I think I can spare a half bell for a few more kisses with my boyfriend.”

_Boyfriend…!!!!_

A gasp escaped his lips. Having enjoyed a dinner date together and committed to continuing their romantic involvement, “boyfriend” was now the appropriate title for his relationship to her. But there was something special about hearing it in so many words for the first time, and it made him all the more giddy to think that she would be calling him that from now on…! 

“I know just where to go!” he said, taking hold of her hand. “There’s a little alcove near the aetheryte plaza that has benches, and a view, and it’s out of the way, and—!”

“Ack, Haurchefant, slow down—!”

But he was already off running, towing her behind him up the cobblestone street. Aoife couldn’t help laughing at the absurdity of it all: the two of them galloping through the streets to find a quiet place for stolen kisses, as though the whole city was theirs alone. She kept a tight grip on his hand the whole way… 

In the end, they managed not to miss the 8:40 bus leaving Foundation Transit Center. 

It was, however, something of a close call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art for this chapter can be found [here!](https://twitter.com/JewishAnime/status/1352821150787616768)
> 
> I waffled for a bit on whether to include a reference to the archbishop, considering the state of ishgard's institutional religion post-heavensward, but the mental image of haurchefant kissing his girlfriend while flipping off the pope was just too good to pass up


	8. Haurchefant makes the next move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to drop a quick apology for the lack of updates these last few weeks, as I have actually gotten a considerable amount written, but am not able to post any of it because (like an idiot) I had decided to skip past a chapter I was stuck on and just keep writing, promising to come back to it later. Unfortunately the chapter I'm stuck on is the one immediately after this one. Oopsie! ~~something something why do i even bother including sex scenes in my work when I have such immense difficulty writing them~~
> 
> Anyway, I figured I would just drop the one chapter I *can* post, and eventually emerge from the aether with the rest of this fic lmao

In most ways (some might argue, the most important ways), Aoife’s romantic relationship with Haurchefant was markedly similar to their friendship. They still chatted on the bus in the mornings, and texted each other throughout the day. The differences were small at first: Aoife started appending hearts to her good morning and goodnight texts. Haurchefant would sit close enough to physically touch her when fortune favored them with seats together on the bus. Sometimes there would be little to say, and they’d simply link hands and lean on each other for a comfortable commute in each other’s company.

Perhaps the biggest change was in the time they now made to spend together outside of their commute. Haurchefant had no shortage of ideas for dates—sometimes Aoife wondered if he kept a list of them somewhere, or if he spent his spare time researching Ishgard’s most scenic and romantic locales so that he’d always have somewhere new to take her. He took her to catch the sunset from the Pillars, and then moseyed down to Saint Valeroyant’s Forum for a relaxed dinner at the historic Forgotten Knight. He took her to the scenic viewpoint tower at Whitebrim Front, after which they could stop in for warm drinks at his parents’ cafe. He even took her to see the prized chocobos at the Holy Stables (descendants of army chocobos, with impressive pedigrees, but Ishgard had long since stopped relying on chocobos to transport their armed forces. These chocobos were bred purely to keep their lineages alive, and the specimens at the Holy Stables were somewhat more rotund than their ancestors had been). Aoife would sometimes contribute with places she wanted to visit too—she showed particular interest in Ishgard’s tallest work of sculpture, The Pike, despite its distance from the city proper. Haurchefant was all too happy to join her, and even arranged for a chocobo carriage from Falcon’s Nest to carry them across the ice and snow.

Even outside of the special outings and dinner dates, sometimes Aoife would simply head to the Pillars after her museum shift ended and start on her schoolwork in the lobby of the Vault. Haurchefant was always delighted to see her there after a long day of work, and the two of them would head back to the transit center hand in hand, or see about getting dinner at a nearby eatery before making the journey home…

It was on one such evening, as they made their way back to the transit center with bellies full and spirits high, that Haurchefant found the courage to propose trying something they hadn’t done before.

“Er—Aoife,” he said, squeezing her hand before releasing it. “I know this is short notice, and I apologize, but…”

Aoife tilted her head, brow furrowed.

“Well, I was thinking that it’s already getting somewhat late,” Haurchefant went on. “And given that tomorrow is the weekend, I was wondering if you would be… amenable to spending the night at my place in Dragonhead.” 

“And by spending the night, you mean…” Aoife didn’t finish her sentence, but her eyes briefly darted downward; Haurchefant could tell she had caught his drift. He nodded.

“Just for tonight, we could take it slow, and…”

He placed a meaning hand on her waist to draw her closer. She looked up at him, and he met her gaze with a smile.

“We don’t have to, of course,” he said. “But I figured I would ask.”

Aoife seemed to think about it, for a time, but finally she answered him with a resolute nod.

“Yeah. I think I’d be willing to try.”

Haurchefant’s face lit up. 

“Splendid!” His voice came out perhaps a bit louder than he meant it to. “Er—shall we, then? I mean, if you need to stop for anything on the way—toiletries, night things, anything else you might need—I would be glad to accommodate. There should be a convenience store right by the bus st—!”

Aoife stood on her toes and pulled his shoulder down far enough that she could press her lips to his, and that shut him up fairly quickly.

“I’ll be  _ fine,” _ she said as she pulled away. “Thank you for thinking of me, though.”

“O-of course…” Haurchefant responded. Aoife seemed to have a knack for robbing him of his words. “Let’s be off, then…!”

* * *

Aoife and Haurchefant sat very close together on the bus, hands intertwined—for once she was relieved that Haurchefant’s stop was so much closer to Foundation than hers. 

Aoife had never been to Dragonhead proper, though she’d watched it pass by the bus window daily for some time now. It was a suburban neighborhood with wide streets and a plethora of housing, from single family homes to sprawling apartment complexes. Occasionally there would be a block or two of shops and cafes before the residential area continued almost as though it had never been interrupted. 

With boots crunching in the days-old snow, after a time the two of them arrived at the stone walls of a fortress—Camp Dragonhead, or so it had once been called. What had once been a major military outpost was now the social center of the neighborhood, with event spaces, art galleries, and a small museum detailing the fortress’ history. It even boasted an aetheryte of its own, though the long-term costs of maintaining such a network across international borders had dramatically increased the fares for its use. Nowadays Dragonhead residents with daily commutes and less-than-ideal earnings were more likely to resort to bus lines than to pay more for the convenience of aethernet travel.

Haurchefant’s apartment was located inside the fortress itself, as part of a wing that had once been home to military barracks. Rooms that had slept ten soldiers at a time during the Dragonsong War had been transformed into modest studio apartments with en-suite baths and shared laundry. Haurchefant had managed to luck into a larger space a higher floor, where two separate rooms had been merged into a one bedroom flat.

“Well,” said Haurchefant, as he unlocked the door, “It’s not much, but here we are.”

Unsure what to expect, Aoife stepped across the threshold. Beyond the door was a homey main room, with a small kitchen and bar. One wall was made of stone that looked original to the fortress, and set into this wall was a hearth with an Allagan display mounted above it. The main room was simply furnished: it had a couch, two chairs, and a small coffee table; bar stools at the kitchen counter served as the dining space. A few framed art prints hung on the walls. Despite the cozy accommodations, Aoife got the sense that Haurchefant didn’t spend much time here.

Haurchefant followed her inside and removed his shoes and coat while she got her bearings; as soon as she had assessed the room to her liking, Aoife followed suit and set about removing her boots. After taking her first shoe off, she sensed his eyes on her and looked up at him.

“Hm?”

“Your feet…” said Haurchefant quietly. “I’m sorry, I know it’s rude to stare, but…”

Aoife looked back down, expecting something out of the ordinary—but then it occurred to her that he’d never seen her without shoes on before. Viera had longer feet than those of other races, and they stood naturally on their clawed toes rather than with their whole foot flat on the ground. She removed her other boot and stood up, meeting his gaze with an apologetic smile.

“Viera feet just look like this,” she said. “Sorry, I can put my shoes back on if it’s too weird…”

“Oh, no, not at all!” said Haurchefant quickly. “They’re different from mine, but that doesn’t make them weird. To be honest—I’d actually been wondering why you’re always in heels.”

“Mm. Heels support my feet better,” Aoife explained. “I  _ can _ wear flat shoes, but it gets uncomfortable after a while.”

“I see! That does make sense,” said Haurchefant. “Er—come on in and have a seat wherever you like! I’ll get a fire going… Would you like something to drink?”

“We weren’t going to the bedroom, then?” Aoife raised an eyebrow.

“I—well!” Haurchefant blurted. “I… I had intended to take this slowly, but if you’d like to, er, jump on in, then by all means—!”

“Oh, no… It’s just…” Aoife fidgeted a little. “I’ve never done this before, so… I just kind of assumed the bedroom is where one goes to…” She looked away in embarrassment, ears drooping.

Haurchefant smiled warmly, trying his best not to laugh—not because he found her inexperience something to laugh at, but because it endeared her to him all the more. He walked over to her and gently took her hands in his.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly. “We can take this as quickly or as slowly as you like. We don’t even have to… go all the way, if you aren’t comfortable doing so.”

Aoife nodded to him quietly, though her cheeks still burned—Haurchefant clearly had more experience in this field. For a moment she worried whether she would be able to meet his expectations, but his voice pulled her back out of her thoughts.

“I want to go at  _ your _ pace, Aoife,” Haurchefant went on. He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. “We can try it little by little, and if we have to stop, then stop we will. Making sure that  _ you _ feel happy and safe is more important to me than anything.”

“Thank you…” Aoife responded quietly.

“So…” said Haurchefant. “Where would you like us to start, my dear?”

Aoife thought about it for a time, weighing the different options, before finally answering:

“Let’s… go sit on the bed, I think. And, um… kiss…”

Really, at the heart of it, that was what she wanted to do more than anything. She’d come to treasure the feeling of his skin on hers, and if sexual intimacy just meant more of that, she readily welcomed the opportunity.

“Splendid idea,” said Haurchefant, smile widening. “Here—the bedroom is just through that door. I’ll be right in with some water for us, as well as other…” He cleared his throat, delicately. “Things we might need.”

Aoife had the feeling she knew what kinds of things he was referring to. Haurchefant released her hands and headed through another door, beyond which she assumed was the bathroom. Steeling her nerves—trying to relax, while at the same time not quite knowing what to expect—she made her way toward the bedroom. 

_ “I want to go at  _ **_your_ ** _ pace, Aoife.” _

Even through her nerves, she got the sense that Haurchefant meant what he said. That if they merely spent their evening exchanging kisses and then chastely retired to separate rooms for the night, he would be no less thrilled than if they had gone straight to intercourse and tumbled on until the sun rose the next morning. It was just the kind of person he was: he seemed to revel in spending time with her at all, no matter how they chose to spend that time. After all, in the beginning they’d only had thirty short minutes a day to see each other… 

She couldn’t help smiling to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yet another episode of "i swear to god i don't have a foot fetish, I just like worldbuilding involving people with animal features"


End file.
